


Just Like When You... You Know

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:11:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You've got to push, hard, but not too hard, just like when you... you know."<br/>- John Abruzzi, s1</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like When You... You Know

_“Demolition runs in the family!”_

The slightly manic grin on Abruzzi's face as he said that unnerved Sucre at first, but as he watches the mobster drill the egg beater with a vengeance, he can't help but admire the effort the other man puts into this. They've completed almost all the holes now; just one more to go and they're through.

Suddenly the egg beater drill slips a little and Abruzzi stops. “Oooh... Yes. We're through. She's all yours now.” The taller man pulls the improvised tool gently away from the wall and hands Sucre a piece of an old pipe. Sucre grins nervously and swings the pipe; pieces of the wall starts coming loose and within seconds there's a large hole in the middle of the wall.

Their laughter echo off the empty walls around them, and Sucre can't help but think how nice it is to laugh with someone. Abruzzi slaps him on the back, grinning and still laughing. Sucre raises his fist just as the mobster extends his hand, and just like with Fish, they somehow end up in a manly hug.

And Sucre knows he should just go back to banging that pipe at the wall, but he feels to elated and too giddy and he just hugs Abruzzi again, and Abruzzi laughs again and hugs him back, and then suddenly the older man's hands are around his neck as their foreheads butt together. And then Abruzzi kisses him.

It's hurried and full of laughter and it feels a bit like being a drunk teenager, and Sucre doesn't ever want it to stop. He kisses Abruzzi back, pushing timidly against the older man and dropping the pipe with a loud _clank_. A feeling of victory still floods them both, and Abruzzi is still grinning like mad when he runs his hands down Sucre's stomach and slips them under the edge of the Puerto Rican's tee-shirt.

Still kissing, the two men start pulling playfully at each others' clothing, and then suddenly Sucre's shirt is gone, and he's craning his neck to nip at Abruzzi's throat. And Abruzzi makes deep, rumbling, groaning sounds, and his hips are grinding against Sucre's. The heat is so intense and they're just wrestling and moving and melting around each other, smiling and laughing and groping like inexperienced fourteen year olds.

Sucre gets Abruzzi's trousers halfway down his thighs, and then Abruzzi does the same to Sucre. They're still kissing, but when Sucre feels a hand around him that's just so much bigger and rougher than his own, he breaks away to moan and breathe. They're not wrestling any more, just touching and stroking and nipping and God, it's so hot and Sucre didn't even know he wanted this so much.

And suddenly the sensations are just too numerous, too strong and too delicious; Abruzzi almost stops breathing and Sucre is sure he's exploding. There is release and sticky heat and cries and moans that would stop the riot dead in its tracks if the others had heard them, and dark eyes slip closed in ecstasy just as green ones widen.

And afterwards it's a bit awkward and goofy, but there's still laughter and devious grins and when Sucre crawls back through that hole, he just wishes Lincoln wouldn't slam him against the rails like that, because victory is still buzzing in his mind like a swarm of bees on Speed and he wants to grin at Abruzzi again and enjoy it.

But Abruzzi always grins anyway, so it doesn't really matter.


End file.
